perfectvirtual

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Walt Whitman, ‘Song of Myself’, Leaves of Grass

[Text ID: “that pining I have - that pulse of my nights and days.”]

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[perfectvirtual]

I was conscious of my beating heart because of the pulsation above it. Between one beat and the next, something sped far away and sped back again. As I listened to the beating, the distance seemed to increase. And however far the something went, however infinitely far, it met nothing at its destination. The next beat summoned it back.

川端 康成 (via jueki)

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[perfectvirtual]

Last night my life was so quiet that my feelings were audible. When the phone rang, I thought it was my heart.

— Ken Chen, from “Taipei Novel,” Juvenilia

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Innumerable words reminded her of him. To link whatever she saw and heard with her love was nothing less than to be alive. Her awareness of her body was inseparable from her memory of his embrace.

Yasunari Kawabata, Beauty and Sadness (via theblackquill)

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“For years mental heath professionals taught people that they could be psychologically healthy without social support, that “unless you love yourself, no one else will love you.” (...) The truth is you cannot love yourself unless you have been loved and are loved. The capacity to love cannot be built in isolation.”

- Bruce D. Perry in “The boy who was raised as a dog”

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Patty Dickson Pieczka, from “Autumn”, Beyond the Moon’s White Claw 

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marina tsetaeva trans by ilya kaminsky

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I wish you knew I love you.   I wish you knew how easy you are to love.

Schuyler Peck (via schuylerpeck)

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Sue Zhao

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“it is a faultless performance. i have after all, performed this comedy all my life. but if you wait in the wings you will catch it… that moment alone, when i adjust the mask. only then will you see it… the tragedy beneath.”

— ranata suzuki

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What was important wasn’t the fireworks, it was that we were together this evening, together in this place, looking up into the sky at the same time.

Banana Yoshimoto, Asleep (via quotespile)

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[perfectvirtual]

risshi enshin, “love”, shoku kokin, from an anthology by kitamura kigin (wild azaleas, p. 114) found in: partings at dawn: an anthology of japanese gay literature by stephen d. miller

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[perfectvirtual]

E. M. Forster, Maurice

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[perfectvirtual]

“You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass … / I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone. / I am to wait. I do not doubt I am to meet you again. / I am to see to it that I do not lose you.”

— Walt Whitman, from “To a Stranger,” Leaves of Grass: The Deathbed Edition (BOMC, 1992)

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